


Super Night Vale

by Myarna



Category: Supernatural, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Welcome To Night Vale - Supernatural crossover, addition, except with the plot twist at the end, sticking to canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 16:03:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myarna/pseuds/Myarna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam find themselves in the centre of the strange town of Night Vale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Super Night Vale

The Impala’s engine purred smoothly along the long, winding dirt track that served as a road.   
     “We’re lost, Dean. Just admit it.” Sam whined from the seat next to him. Dean found himself wishing for the 50th time in the past hour that Sam had stayed asleep goddammit.   
     “We’re not lost.” Dean repeated for the fifth time. “We’ve still got radio signal, so we can’t be that far from anywhere.” At that exact moment, the Metallica song that was blaring out of the speakers was interrupted with a bout of static.   
Dean hit the stupid thing and the sound cut out completely, leaving only a faint sound of static. Sam looked at him pointedly, which Dean chose to ignore in favour of glaring out of the windscreen.   
     “You were saying?” Sam asked smugly.   
     “Shut up.” Dean growled and wished death on the stupid desert that stretched out for miles in front of them.   
Thankfully, Sam shifted in his seat and let his eyes slide shut. He emitted a soft snore shortly after, so Dean was able to drive in relative silence. The static from the damn radio started to get annoying though, but as he reached forward to turn it off, the static cut off and a smooth, honey-like voice started speaking instead.   
 _“Listeners, the city council has asked me to remind you all that the sale of wheat and wheat by-products is forbidden.”_  
Dean’s eyebrows furrowed and his eyes bugged. His suspicions were immediately roused, but a small part of him hoped it was some kind of prank station. The voice had woken Sam, who sat up and stared at the radio in disbelief.   
     “What the hell?” He asked, his mouth hanging open slightly.   
     “Local station maybe.” Dean brushed it off.   
     “There’s nothing local about this place. We’re in a desert.” Sam stated, snapping out of sleep very quickly.   
Dean just shrugged in explanation.   
 _“Listeners, there seems to be a small army approaching our small desert community. Very small, in fact. So small that it appears to be one car. The city council advises that we remain hostile to these visitors, but I don’t know. They don’t seem like an army. They could just be passing through. I say we give them a good old Night Vale welcome.”_  
     “I’ve got the strangest feeling that he means us.” Dean muttered, switching between stating at the radio and glancing at the road.   
     “He can’t mean us. There’s nothing around, the place is literally a desert.”   
     “How many people do you think come anywhere near to this place in cars at three in the morning?” Dean snapped, losing patience with his brother.   
     “I don’t know, do you think we should check this place out?” Sam knew better than to keep pushing Dean.   
     “Yeah, I think so. Might have to call Bobby when we get there.” Dean considered, thinking how they might be out of their depth with this place.  
     “Wherever there is.” Sam sniffed. Dean elected to ignore the snide remark.   
They drove in silence, with the liquid voice pouring out of the speakers. Dean was unable to make himself turn it off.

     “Sam, do you remember if we accidentally took acid? Or mushrooms? Hell, even African Dream Root?” Dean asked, staring up at the glowing mass in the sky that was a good few miles away from where they were.   
Sam shook his head and stared at the sky that was way too daytime-like for 3am. It _looked_ like a regular cloud. And it would have been, had it not been glowing different colours. As Dean watched it from the safety of the car, he saw something small fall from one side of it. The object would have landed directly on the car had Dean not slammed on the breaks.   
     “What the hell is that?” Sam asked, staring at the object.   
     “I think…it’s an opossum.”   
     “Did you hit it?”   
     “No, it landed there.” Dean informed Sam, his voice shaking slightly.   
     “But it’s dead.”   
     “It fell from a cloud, Sammy. What did you expect?” Dean attempted to make light of the situation. It didn’t work.   
     “Keep driving.” Sam whispered, staring at the thing. Dean did.   
Pretty soon, they spotted a bright light that came from a dip in a sand dune.   
     “Is that…?” Dean trailed off, knowing fully well what it was.   
     “It’s an Arby’s.” Sam stated, fixated.   
Dean didn’t pause. The Arby’s was some sign of normalcy, but in this setting it was disturbing.   
     “Call Bobby.” Dean ordered, determined to investigate this place but oddly frightened.   
The guy who hunted monsters was afraid of a little town. He couldn’t help it, the place had an air of threat surrounding it. There was something deeply wrong here.   
     “No signal.” Sam thrust the essentially useless cell phone back in his pocket.   
As they drove past a large purple sign with the words “ **WELCOME TO NIGHT VALE** ” written on them in large letters, Dean shivered. The sign was adorned with a large eye shape, with a crescent moon in one half of the pupil. The sign alone was beyond creepy. The man on the radio started talking animatedly about their new visitors. Sam slammed the radio into silence.

Dean stopped outside a large office-like building with an antenna protruding from the roof. On the antenna, the letters ‘ **N V C R** ' were pinned on, one above the other.  
     “What do you think it stands for?” Dean asked his brother, who was usually better at working stuff like that out.   
     “Well the first two probably stand for Night Vale. I don’t know about the other two. They could be Community Radio?” Sam suggested, staring at the lettering.   
     “So this is the radio station?”   
     “Probably,” Sam glanced back up at the sky and watched the cloud for a few seconds.   
     “I really think we should just go, Dean.”   
     “No,” Dean shook his head “I’m not certain, but this place looks like a hunter trap.”  
     “A hunter trap?” Sam turned to stare at his brother instead. “No way.”  
     “Sure looks like one.” Dean shrugged.   
     “That’s even more reason for us to leave.” Sam argued, and they both suddenly got the eerie feeling of being watched.   
     “Who knows how many hunters have been sucked in here. Think of all the MIA hunters you know, Sam. What if they’re here?” Dean looked around with the certainty that they were being watched.   
A group of crows flew over, seeming to come from nowhere.   
     “Is that some kind of subtle hint?” Sam asked, looking up at the birds.   
     “What?”   
     “A group of crows is called a murder.”   
     “Yeah whatever. I say we check out the radio station.”

     “Ladies and gentlemen, there are two men in the booth with me. They would be perfect, but they say they are with the FBI. Listeners, does anyone know what that actually is? Maybe the government’s secret police have renamed themselves. That could have happened. They say they want to talk to me. What could they want, and why? Listeners, I fear for my life. For now, the weather.” In person, his voice was much more hypnotizing than it had been over the radio.   
It didn’t escape Dean how odd the things he was saying were, but he was sure they were dealing with a hunter trap, so he tried not to let the abnormalities of the place affect him. The man had strikingly white hair, much whiter than one would assume to get naturally. His eyes were bright purple, with crescent moons on one side, replicating the symbol on the sign they’d passed on their way in. Dean wanted to believe they were contacts, but judging by the rest of the town, he knew better. He wore glasses with thick black frames and a purple shirt that was frankly too tight. He had a thick fringe that was showing hints of purple underneath it. Dean couldn’t work out what it was hiding. He had been speaking into an antique looking broadcasting microphone, and the whole studio looked like it came straight out of an antiques store. He cautiously pressed a button on the large mixing desk and took off his headphones.   
     “Gentlemen, can I help you?” The man’s light skin paled even more.   
     “It’s okay, we’re not here to hurt you.” Sam reassured him, past caring about the weirdness.   
     ”That’s what they all say. Would you just let me say goodbye to my listeners before you take me to the abandoned mine shaft?”   
Dean was fast losing patience.   
     “We’re not gonna take you anywhere. We just want to ask you some questions.” Dean snapped and his brother nudged him in warning.   
The man looks dubious, but spun around in his chair to face them.   
     “Okay, what’s your name?” Sam asked gently.   
     “Cecil,”   
     “What’s your last name, Cecil?”   
     “I-I don’t know.” His voice began to shake.   
     “You don’t know your own last name?” Dean’s patience had flown out of the window.   
     “Please don’t hurt me.” Cecil rushed and put his head in his hands.  
     “It’s okay, we’re not going to hu-”   
     “I need to go back on air.” Cecil sat up suddenly and organized his equipment.   
     “What the hell?” Dean whispered to Sam.   
     “Welcome back, listeners. I have some news! Old woman Josie has reported seeing more angels at her house. But we all know that there is no such thing as angels because the secret police are to be trusted in their answers.” Dean and Sam snapped their heads around to look at each other in unison. “Dear listeners, I’m afraid that is the end of our show tonight. Stay tuned for the sounds of screaming souls on their descent to Hell. Good night, sweet listeners, good night.” Cecil pressed another button and the light that showed he was on air went off.   
The moment Cecil took the headphones off, Sam knelt down to his level.   
     “Cecil, how do you get to old woman Josie’s house?” Sam asked, thinking they might finally have an answer.   
     “Oh, it’s quite simple really.” Cecil gave them directions that weren’t very simple at all. Dean accepted it though, they weren’t gonna get lost in a town as small as Night Vale. They practically ran out of the studio when Cecil finally stopped talking.

     “You don’t seriously think there are angels here, do you?” Sam asked once they were safely inside the car.   
     “It’s worth a shot. Besides, old Josie’s MIA; could be her.”   
     “It’s not gonna be our Josie, Dean.”   
     “Might b-is that Carlos?” Dean stopped the car next to a man hurrying down the street wearing a lab coat.   
     “Carlos!” Sam hissed, and the man stopped in his tracks.   
He spun around to face the car and his features twisted into a mix of relief and horror.   
     “Not here. Follow me.” Carlos continued to hurry down the street and Dean followed.   
     “This could be a trap.” Sam stated.   
     “Thanks, Captain Obvious.” Dean reached over into the glove compartment, pulled out his .45 and handed it to Sam.   
They seemed to be getting closer to the freaky-ass cloud, which was way too low, and when Carlos turned a sharp corner, Dean stopped the Impala, deciding to follow on foot. In a split-second decision, Dean let Sam run after Carlos and made his way to the trunk. Quickly, he pulled out a random shotgun, loaded it and aimed at the cloud. He pulled the trigger and the shot echoed down the street. The bullet went straight through the cloud, not damaging it at all. After all, it was a cloud. Dean was rewarded by being hit in the chest with a dead cat. He kicked it away quickly, and felt the shotgun being wrenched out of his hands.   
     “Are you trying to get us killed?” Sam hissed from behind him, then snatched the gun away, unloaded it and threw it back in the trunk.   
     “Come on.” Dean glared at the cloud and allowed his brother to pull him down the alley.

Dean found himself in a typical school science lab, where Carlos was sitting on one of the benches with his head in his hands.   
     “You two need to get out while you still can.”   
     “It’s a hunter trap, isn’t it?” Dean asked, feeling stupidly smug.   
     “Yes, and you just alerted everyone who didn’t know that you’re here by trying to shoot a cloud!” Carlos yelled.   
     “Have you seen that thing? Can you blame me for trying to get it down?”   
     “Yes I have and yes I do, Dean.” Dean sighed, ignoring the stupid smug look that Sam was wearing.   
     “How long have you been here, Carlos?” Sam took over.   
     “A few months.”   
     “A few months? You’ve been MIA for over a year.” Sam took a step back.   
     “A year? Impossible.”   
     “Everyone thinks you’re dead.” Sam delivered the news in perhaps not the most sensitive way.   
     “Oh, I see. I knew it. Boys, you two really need to leave. Time passes differently in Night Vale, it has to. You’ve not been here long, but to the outside world, it could have already been weeks.” Carlos told them with fear in his eyes.   
     “Come on, we’ll take you with us! You can come home.” Sam exclaimed, which sparked a light in Carlos’ eyes for a moment. It soon dimmed.   
     “No, it’s too late for me. You two go, I’m okay.”   
     “You don’t look okay.” Dean snorted.   
     “I am. Now go, before they find you and kill us all.” Carlos jumped up and ushered them out of the lab. Suddenly, they were outside and Carlos was nowhere in sight.   
     “We’re not going home, are we?” Sam sighed.   
     “No, we’re gonna talk to Josie about her angels and then we’ll see.” Dean was overly tired, and knew he should get some rest, but he couldn’t. Not in Night Vale.

     “Josie?” Dean called through the door.   
A light above them on the porch was flickering. There was no reply from inside, so Dean tried the handle, much to Sam’s disgust. Facing the door, an old, frail figure sat in a large armchair. It was their Josie alright, but she looked nothing like the Josie who could take down a vampire with a single flick of her wrist. This Josie had dead eyes, and stared at the boys for the longest time.   
     “Josie? It’s us, Sam and Dean. Do you remember?” Dean asked, desperate for a reaction from the wise old hunter.   
     “I remember.” She rasped.   
     “What’s going on here, Josie?” Sam asked, crinkling his nose at the musty smell of the empty room.   
It was literally empty. There was no carpet or paint on the walls, there weren’t even any windows. The only thing in the room was Josie and her chair.   
     “You two need to leave.” She told them weakly.   
     “Josie, where are the angels?” Dean asked, not wanting to get the same speech from Josie as they had from Carlos.   
Josie raised a shaking finger and pointed to the wall behind where Sam and Dean stood. They both spun around in unison and came face to face with a huge figure with purple eyes covering its face. Nothing on its body was in proportion to anything else.   
     “So not an angel then.” Dean commented to Sam, suddenly wishing for Cas.   
Sam reached for the gun that was securely wedged in the waistband of his jeans.   
     “Don’t. It’ll just piss it off.” Dean warned.   
Sam listened to his brother’s advice and held his hands up. The thing started moving and it was then Dean realized it didn’t have legs. It circled them, and starting coming towards them. Dean and Sam walked backwards through the open door. They stumbled backwards down the porch steps, never taking their eyes off the thing. They set foot on the dirt of the floor, and Sam tripped over. He fell on his back and Dean quickly helped him up, but in the moment he took his eyes off the thing he heard a loud slam. They both snapped their heads up, expecting to see the thing preparing for the kill, but instead met with the grinning face of Gabriel.   
     “Gabriel?” Dean spluttered.   
     “Hey boys!” Gabriel’s grin stretched.   
     “What the…what the fuck?” Sam sighed, giving up on attempting to understand anything.   
     “Nice to see you too, buddy.”   
     “ _You_  did-this is your doing?” Dean felt the confusion melt away, only to be replaced by anger.   
     “Guilty as charged.”   
     “Thought there’d be more hookers.” Dean shrugged, trying to pretend his mind hadn’t just exploded.   
     “Yeah well, maybe next time champ.”   
     “You created a hunter trap?” Sam spoke up, glaring at Gabriel.   
     “I was bored. Had a free Tuesday.” Gabriel looked at Sam pointedly.   
     “Why?” Dean had gotten grip of the situation, but he wasn’t sure if Sam had.   
     “Schedule was empty, I don’t know.” Gabriel raised an eyebrow.   
     “Why did you create this place?” Dean pressed.   
     “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Hello, trickster! This place is just like how it is today, but amped up. It’s just a bit of fun.”   
     “Fun? It doesn’t look fun for Carlos and Josie.” Dean continued. Apparently Sam hadn’t graduated to speaking yet, he was left staring at Gabriel instead.   
     “Carlos has found someone. I did him a favour. Josie’s perfectly happy with her angels.”   
     “What do you mean  _found someone_?”   
     “What’s with all the questions?” Gabriel complained. “Look, I’m feeling generous, so I won’t contain you here. You two would get killed faster than you could say city council, and a world without you two would be no fun. We’d miss all the apocalypses.”   
Dean glared in way of reply.   
     “Alright, if you wanna be like that. See you at the next apocalypse, okay?” Gabriel smiled, overly sweet.   
He brought a hand up and raised his eyebrows quickly as a parting gesture.   
He snapped his fingers and the scenery melted away and was immediately replaced with the dreary walls of a motel room.   
     “I hope to god that was a dream.” Sam groaned.   
     “No, and I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch trickster the next time I see him.” Dean grumbled.

 


End file.
